Christening
by 12VelvetWhispers
Summary: A short one-shot involving an icy captain, stubborn substitute shinigami, and a certain new sofa in the 10th Division office...


Title: Christening

Rating: M

Warning: yaoi, pr0nz, adult content, lemon

AN: Written for LJ Christmas Exchange for moon_wing in response to their 'sofa' request. I hope you enjoy and have a Merry Christmas!

He almost missed it when that first sigh escaped those parted lips, when that breath of air, slightly heavier than the rest managed to betray the smaller man's stiff control. But he doesn't, and he catches it with his tongue, bouncing it back into that soft mouth with a groan of his own.

He finds himself biting against that pale, porcelain flesh that is so soft and cool that it is almost absurd to think of him as anything other than a child. Because only children and women have skin this baby-soft, flesh this smooth, and scents this sweet. But he shakes that thought away from his mind, because Toshirou Hitsugaya is no child.

He didn't belong to that carrot-top anymore than the substitute belonged to him, and this night is as close to perfect as it can be without that comfort, that security. He will take it for what it is worth, and rake that alabaster flesh with hungry – no – starving fingers that pull moans and hidden whimpers from those same pink lips.

Against his body, the icy captain would seem like only a teenager, if it weren't for the blunt fingernails drawing crescent-shaped valley's of purple and angry red into the tender flesh of the carrot-top's shoulder blades; the wanton way he wraps his creamy, ivory thighs around those tan hips, his body opening to take welcome that throbbing member into his own waiting heat.

The substitute's lips stiffened in surprise at the over-eager gesture from the captain, but quickly melted against those warm petals in a hauntingly natural way that made him wonder why they ever spent their time doing anything other than this.

In the morning, he knows they will not speak of this again, too prideful and scared for their own good, for anyone to know that there is something that can make the other weak in the knees. Because there is just something inherently wrong with the world, some fear of people like them, men who bed other men. Neither knows why, for what damage might it cause? People are better off not knowing…

Lifting the captain's leg higher on his hip, the substitute took notice of the light trembling in the limbs, thrusting his tongue past those warm lips as he stroked gently at the shaking muscles behind his pale knee.

The nails digging into his flesh, silent gasps for air wafting past his ear, long lean legs wrapping around his hips more tightly as he slipped smoothly into that velvety heat…all of these gave him an uplifting sense of achievement.

There came a determination in the forming rhythm, ready to see this through to the very end, never once questioning the gravity of this moment. No matter how he would likely never hear the end of it for the bruises that would definitely be on the back of those porcelain knees tomorrow, it didn't matter now, with that tightness and heat wrapped around him so torturously.

Sweat was forming on their brows, slicking their skin as Ichigo pushed those pale shoulders into the green cushions of the sofa with the force of his rocking and thrusting. He drug his own dull nails down the elder Shinigami's sensitive sides, enjoying the way the icy captain arched his back at the action, pressing their moist chests together, creating a glorious lack of friction.

Long, pale fingers tugged at fiery orange hair, encouraging and demanding more from that mouth that was ravishing that smooth chest. Those choked-off moans were driving the larger man crazy with lust, causing him to shiver at the sensations coursing through him.

The carrot-top knew he wouldn't last long, not with the firestorm raging inside of him as that now burning body beneath him rocked steadily against him. There were no words, just low groans, rasping breath, and choked cries as their rhythm began to fall slightly apart at the sheer sensation of everything.

He gripped those ivory hips harder and bit harshly into the pale shoulder beneath his lips, marking the flesh with an angry red whelp that would probably fade soon. Lean fingers buried themselves further in his obscenely bright hair, tugged lightly as those trembling knees began to tighten against him.

He released those narrow hips in favor of gripping those coarse green cushions below, grasping for any lifeline to hold onto and ground himself. Burying his face in that long neck, he breathed in the sweet musk of green tea and orchids as that silvery hair brushed against his nose, tickling it ever so slightly.

That was when his hips rolled and stilled, heat coursing over his body as hot, sticky fluid coated his stomach, dripping down to pool in the ridges of those taut muscles hidden beneath porcelain skin. The tightening of those muscles clenched around him tore a strangled groan from his lips, as he felt himself falling a thousand feet, release washing over him as those pale thighs fell limply from his hips to rest motionlessly against that green cushion below.

As awareness slowly filtered back into his mind, he raised his head and stared at the panting man below him, all flushed and gorgeous in the afterglow.

Unable to restrain himself, he allowed a small smirk to take up residence on his features, causing the teal-eyed captain to frown slightly, despite his euphoric weightlessness, "What…?"

Ichigo snickered slightly, sliding his hand gently against the other's forehead to clear the sticky silver hair from his sweaty face, "I think it's safe to say that we have thoroughly christened this new sofa, wouldn't you?"


End file.
